


the fine lines between Love and Hate

by iTwinDragons (rNgDragon)



Series: there's blood in the water [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Brainwashing, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gency, Sanzang!Zenyatta, Suicidal Thoughts, Talon!Gency, Talon!Genji, Talon!Mercy, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rNgDragon/pseuds/iTwinDragons
Summary: It never occurred to her how beautiful Genji was until now, lying twisted in her bedsheets, gasping her name like a prayer.(Alternate summary: Pain, pleasure. Truth, lie. Love, hate. Angela always knew how thin the lines were. But after all the lies and truths had broken past the crafted reality in Genji's mind, just how deep did those lines run into his heart? A Talon!Gency au.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be for gency week day 2: au, but this fic happened instead. one month late but have this Talon!Gency au…
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **(also, you should probaly read the tags before continuing)**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  touch _(təCH)_ verb
> 
>   1. come so close to (an object) as to be or come into contact with it.
>   2. handle in order to manipulate, alter, or otherwise affect, especially in an adverse way.
> 


-

It never occurred to her how beautiful Genji was until now, twisted in her bedsheets, gasping her name like a prayer. The lights on his body blazed a flickering red, shining off the black armour plates on his body, the only source of light in the room. Steam expelled from his vents as he shivered underneath her. The carefully crafted, carbon fibre strands of synthetic muscles were warming up with her touch. His back arched, exposing his neck and she bent forward, nipping at each cord to see what reaction she could get out of him. The unremovable parts of his helmet scratched against the bed frame. He was so touch starved, and she was so eager to please.

Angela looked down at the cyborg, licking the thin coating of prematurely applied lipstick off her lips. She decided she like the way it left red marks on his obsidian black armour. He was hers. He belonged to her, every part of him. No one else had her permission to touch. She knew his entire body, inside and out, after all, she had created it.

He was her creation and she had every desire, and right, to test it. She ghosted her hand down his side, to his hips and beyond, frowning in thought. He didn't react to her touch like the rest of his body. Maybe she should add a setting to change the amount of stimuli he felt during, and after fights. It's should lead to a better result for both of them.

She wondered how her past self would find her now. She pretty much broke all the morals she had made back in Overwatch when she accepted Talon's offer.

-

Blackwatch. She didn't like them, no matter how much McCree was her friend, she couldn't help but wince every time she heard Genji's body hit the floor, and the rough voice of Commander Reyes telling them to go again.

The inevitable was coming. She knew that much. The cyborg was getting used to his body fast, and may not ever need her again, lest he managed to get severely damaged. She had spoken to him and they both waited. Perhaps he would be placed in the same unit as her, with Captain Amari and Commander Morrison.

No such luck.

-

Overwatch had wanted to take him away from her. Her cyborg, her masterpiece. Bring him down, and chain her dragon in the slums of Blackwatch. Not Overwatch. There, she would never be able to talk to her cyborg again. He just wouldn't exist. She wouldn't let that happen, so they ran. Far, far away. He came with her of course. He had nothing there, no friends, no allies. He lived for her, and her only.

She made sure of it.

Angela trusted him, and he trusted her. He watched her back, while they ran. Overwatch sent people after them, and Genji, the loyal dragon he was, slaughtered them with his two swords, always a shaky mess afterwards. She would clean him up and comforted him, making it seem like she was the only person in the world who saw him for his beauty. The stares of distain thrown their way from passing civilians, didn't help his mood either.

The cyborg clung on to her at nights, always afraid that if he let go, she would disappear, or decide that she didn't like him for his omnic counterparts.

It was perfect.

They ran, and Overwatch chased, picking up the interest of other organizations as well. They both knew they couldn't keep running forever. When someone finally caught up to them, it wasn't who the expected. Talon knew of her betrayal to Overwatch and offered a safe place for them, knowing that there were bounties on their heads. They assured her that they would be more useful together, alive, then dead, and that they had all the money in the world, so they had no interest in their bounties.

Angela had agreed, taking upon the name 'Malice', within their ranks, with the promise that she kept all ownership of her cyborg. She fit in easily, donning a twisted devil version of her Valkyrie suit and continuing her nanotechnology research through almost unlimited funds, finding, with satisfaction, a new and more lethal way to wield nanotechnology. She gave her cyborg and clean new paint job, red and black, contrasting hugely to his previous greens and greys.

Genji hated himself, and she knew it. He thought no one else would like him, accept him in this world. Too omnic to be man, to man to be omnic. There was a program, imbedded deep into his thoughts, made by a hacker that she had befriended in Talon.

Sombra had asked her twice, making sure that this is what she wanted for her lover, before creating it. It was not so much of a reprogramming, than was it a seamless second voice in his head. He'd probably never tell them apart. She tested the authenticity of the program, telling him to stay in her office while she ran an errand or asking him not to follow her, but she always saw a shadow at the edge of her vision, just out of sight. He was always there when she came back.

-

Once, she had purposely provoked another agent, wanting to know it he'd retaliate. They scowled at her, saying that she was nothing but Overwatch's delicate angel. She watched in disappointment as Genji stood silently behind her, doing nothing. The next day however, that same agent showed up, bloody and half dead, for seemingly no reason at all.

Angela smiled when she saw a pair of wings carved into the agent's bloody back. Ouch. That'll leave a scar. Looks like Genji took the angel insult to heart. She cleaned the wound with alcohol and wrapped the wound carelessly with a bandage, then calling a nurse send them to the infirmary. She wouldn't waste her nanotechnology on an expendable foot solider.

That agent would live. Definitely not without repercussions of course.

-

That night, Angela mentioned the agent's back injury, while watching Genji's face carefully. He had discarded his mask long ago, when they had fallen into their shared bed.

"Sounds unfortunate for the soul who wished to harm my angel," was his mere reply. Disappointing, yet satisfying at the same time. She was assured that the programming was working at least.

-

"Genji," Angela called out to her cyborg, who was standing in the middle of a massacre of bodies and dissembled limbs. He had come back into the Shimada Clan seeking vengeance during a mission with Talon. They had assigned him onto this mission, knowing he had a personal vendetta against the Clan that was no longer of any use to them. "Lets go." She tugged against his arm, and he followed with no resistance.

On the ride back, he spoke up. "He wasn't there."

"Who?' She already knew the answer.

"Hanzo." It was the name that she hated at first. He had reduced Genji to this, needing to be hooked up to a permeant mechanical body in order to live. But when she started to pick him up, piece by piece, she realized that Genji wouldn't be who he was without him. He wouldn't be with her, or her greatest work of art, that he is now. A flawless blend of cybernetic enhancements and human parts. Needless to say, she wanted nothing more than to thank her cyborg's killer, before snapping his neck.

-

Sometime later, she had put Genji into an induced coma for a routine checkup, when another scientist came in. She knew that he was the one she replaced as Talon's head medical officer and that he probably wasn't happy about that. "You're a worthless scrap, you know," he growled as he approached her. "You should be working under me, not the other way around."

"Doctor, I request that you leave right now. As you probably can't see, with your declining eyesight, I am in the middle of an operation and you do not have my permission to be here." Angela smiled sweetly, pulling the lab goggles up to rest on her forehead. Keep this strictly professional. "Do you need me to hold your hand and lead you out as well? I can always call the guards."

"You'd be long dead if your monster wasn't here to protect you," he snarled.

"Monster?" She mocked incomprehension. "Then what do we call your life's work? The Reaper, if I recall correctly. A psychopathic smoke demon, that you created with my stolen research." She watched his expression carefully, which turned from surprise to anger. "You think I wouldn't notice? Reaper literally has nanites wafting off of him. I also noticed that my files were misplaced that night and Genji informed me of your trespassing."

"But I—"

"My greatest life work is originally by me, listens to me and is loyal to me. What about yours?" Her smiled widened dangerously, showing teeth. "Who should be working under who?"

He backed away, like a dog with it's tail between his legs. He lost and he knew it. There seemingly was no way to beat Angela Ziegler, ever with her own work. She was simply the best of the best.

-

Overwatch's delicate angel. That nickname had almost been faded to myth ever since Talon found something else she specialized in.

Torture. Interrogation.

Angela knew the human body better then the back of her hand. She knew which parts would make someone bleed, and the most painful places on the human body. She would decapitate limbs, tear off fingernails, yet keep them alive long enough to extract the information Talon required.

She was feared among the Talon operatives and even more so among her enemies, which knew they couldn't escape her lulling presence if they were caught. Her blue eyes were thought to be so cold that if looked into, she would see all your intentions and thoughts. Overwatch had surly caught wind of her existence in Talon by now, but that was no matter. She and Genji were safe. The organization was dying, with the two leaders, Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, assumed dead, Overwatch, in all of its glory, began to crumble.

She knew for sure that they weren't.

-

Angela stepped into the large mansion Talon had given her. The property was owned by a wealthy, but paranoid, old man, who had turned down one of Talon's offers. He was dead now, to Genji's blade. The cyborg in question was perched stiffly on an expensive leather armchair, next to the blazing fireplace.

"Overwatch is back," he spoke, monotone.

"I know." She held her hand out for him, caressing his head when he leaned into her touch. He reached for the faceplate but she stopped him. She never really like his humanoid parts that he remained. They were imperfect and not made by her, meaning that she had no control of what happened there. She slid smoothly into his lap, straddling his hips. "Have you been behaving yourself?"

"Y-yes," the cyborg stuttered, gasping when she traced her hands down his back, dragging her nails against the synthetic skin.

Touch was a strong bond in their relationship, and Angela made sure that he loved it by limiting it to him for days at a time. She had all the time in the world to play with her cyborg, after she had perfecting her nanotechnology, now retaining the ability to keep her youth, as long as she wanted. She looked the same age in the early Overwatch photos, when she still had morals, not changing a single bit visually.

"I heard Jack is back as well as Ana," Angela continued, bringing her hands back up to rest on the cyborg's neck, making him shiver. His stimuli settings were definitely a notch too high. "I wish to see what this new Overwatch is made of."

"Perhaps it would be a fairer fight then last time," Genji commended. "And I'll finish what I started with McCree. For you."

She remembers watching the two fight, saying that she wished to know who would win a duel after so many years, since the first time in the training room with Reyes overlooking them. She also remembers with satisfaction of Genji bringing back McCree's shooting arm for her as a prize. Ever since that, they have fought, trying to get even.

She doubts that all the members would come back, and the ones that did, should prove for some fun. Maybe, she could try out her some of her experimental nanotechnology.

Resurrection. Sounds fun.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by Mercy's devil skin. I was also going to do Oni Genji but I already added that to [another fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9509861/chapters/21510329) instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> small _(smôl)_ adjective
> 
>   1. of a size that is less than normal or usual.
> 


-

Genji was small, smaller than the average person. If anyone asked, Angela simply replied that ninjas needed to be lithe, compact and light, to properly do their jobs and they would move on, accepting her word. It did not explain why she was half a foot taller than him. Furthermore, the components in his body were powerful, allowing her cyborg to lift tons, survive extremely high and low temperatures, yet light enough so she could lift him without so much as sweat. His body was a beautiful combination of science and art, put together delicately with care. It was not without faults, of course.

Genji had told her that his left arm seized up when he was trying to deflect something on his previous mission. A stray bullet tore through the back of his neck, exposing and damaging the sensitive wires. Her cyborg had immediately been sent back to her lab after returning, so she could patch the tear in the synthetic muscle.

It had started out innocently enough, with him sitting on her examination table, facing away from her, and Angela carefully reattaching the wires. But how they got here, with him sitting in her lap, the small of his back pressed up against the edge of her desk, was beyond her. His hands were tangled in her hair, pulling and tugging when she tweaked and reattached the frayed wires on the back of his neck, no longer interested in repairing him.

The edge of Genji's helmet dug into her shoulder, but she didn't mind. He jerked away when she teased a live wire, but the desk prevented him from moving too much. When she connected a blue and black wire together, he shuddered before going limp in her arms, his unsteady breathing filling the silence. She had really outdone herself again. He was truly beautiful like this, weak and exposed, when he could easily just slice her head off at any moment, from the easily acessable shurikin in his arm.

Delicate and weak, while being deadly and strong, her little angel of death on the battlefield. A perfect balance.

-

McCree sensed him before he saw him, turning and pointing his gun to the vague direction before something slammed into him, flipping him over. He skidded on the snow, almost to the cliff edge, just shy of falling off the side, but his attacker stopped them, by jamming a sword into the rocky cliff face, showing off how sharp it was and how strong he was.

"Genji?" The cyborg was still the same after all these years, save for the colour scheme, unlike how he had changed, coming out of his prime and earning some flab.

"McCree," he replied, dragging out the last syllable. His voice sounded more of a purr than the rough growl, from all those years ago. "It's been a long time."

"Not long enough," McCree growled before kicking him off and throwing a flashbang directly into the cyborg's face. He stayed there stunned, for a second before flipping back to his feet. McCree had his gun trained on him. "Look partner, I'm feeling generous so I'm gonna give ya a chance to back outta this unharmed. I'm a changed man. I won't hesitate like the last time."

Genji dashed forward, his blade ready, deflecting all the bullets back at its owner. He took them with a grunt, before lashing his other arm out, in an attempt to catch the cyborg who was now behind him. "You should have just shot me instead of running your mouth."

McCree whipped around, trying to locate the cyborg, but only catching glimpses of black, red and the silver of his sword, before pain blossomed from different parts of his body. The cuts were never deep, just enough to draw blood. He was toying with him, he realized. He could have killed him already, but he wanted to make it slow. Draw out his death and make him suffer. He wildly fanned the hammer of his gun, trying to hit the cyborg. His jaw trembled with effort before a stray bullet managed to hit him, shooting the cyborg out of the air.

His efforts only earned him another sword slice in the back, but this one was deeper, and he felt it cut to the bone. Hot white pain flared in his back, sending him to his knees. He was too slow. All these years of living on the edge were getting to him.

McCree's vision refocused and he was on his knees, Genji's blade pressed against his neck. He stood, looking down at him, the red of his visor glinted off the blade, casting an almost ghost-like appearance around them. Yes, Genji was a foot shorter than him, but no less deadly. He made up for size with inhuman speed and agility.

The tip of the sword now was pricking at the nape of his neck, drawing blood.

"You still haven't changed, McCree." His voice was smooth, and slightly smug, knowing that he won. "Still too slow."

"You've changed," McCree spat blood on the sword. "What the hell did Angie do ta you? You were quiet back then, just a 'lil ball of quiet fury. Never like this."

"It was for the better," Genji quoted. "Like this I could beat you in any way. I am not like you, McCree. I don't have weaknesses from the past."

"Then why am I still alive?" He spotted something blue at the corner of his eye and smiled. Genji shifted uncomfortably at his sudden confidence. "Also another thing, no, I haven't changed. I never go anywhere without a plan b."

"McCree! Move back!" Fareeha called from above. Genji looked up at the sound and he used the opportunity and rolled out of his striking distance. Fareeha launched a concussive blast at Genji, pushing him back toward the edge and sent his sword spinning off the cliff. It's owner almost followed it, but stopped, clinging on to the rocks.

-

Now defenceless, Genji felt fear for the first time. His vision blurred and he saw Hanzo standing above him instead, the blue dragon curling around his sword. He blinked the image away and watched as Pharah hovered above him, and waited for the inevitable.

_"Justice rrains from above!"_

He watched the rockets spiralling towards him and closed his eyes. He let go and fell, off the edge. The battle was lost, for now.

-

Angela heard the familiar, yet sickening crunch of a body, hit the floor and immediately abandoned the Talon foot soldiers to their stations, almost immediately sentencing them to their demise. They were no match for the Overwatch agents and were expendable, but Genji was not.

She slowly hovered down the cliff face, her wings spread, casting an eerie red-orange glow over her cyborg's prone body. He was still beautiful like this, broken and crippled. His face mask had cracked, exposing half of his scarred face. One of his eyes were shown, distant and glassy and his jaw hung at an awkward angle. Definitely broken. He tried to make a sound when she approached, but it came out as a pitiful whimper instead.

Angela's metal clawed boots, crunched through the snow, when she knelt next to him and removed the rest of his mask. His eyes closed tightly, tears forming under his eyelashes. He tried to speak again, but just another broken gasp escaped his throat.

"Hush, sparrow. I need you to be brave for me." She traced the scars on his face before pulling him up for a kiss. She let her tongue wander, savouring the salty, copper tang of blood. His synthetic jaw was slack against her's and he shuddered when she leaned into the kiss.

She watched the life starting fade out of his beautiful golden eyes and gripped her staff, that laid there forgotten. Genji's eyes slipped closed and he went limp in her arms. Angela tsked in annoyance and brought her staff up. Nanites streamed through the air, basking them in a golden light.

_"My servants never die."_

_-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm in love with this au. Definitely writing more. 
> 
> I just want to thank everyone who kudoed and commented on this fic and for their support!! Props to you guys!!
> 
> (If u wanna stick around, I'll just let you know that I have been inspired by [this art here by pydiydie](http://pydiyudie.tumblr.com/post/156333542547). Go check out their work. Seriously it's amazing.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> con·trol _(kənˈtrōl)_ noun
> 
>   1. the power to influence or direct people's behavior or the course of events.
>   2. a group or individual used as a standard of comparison for checking the results of a survey or experiment.
> 


 

-

The only time she ever feared for him was when she didn't hear her name on the roster.

Angela's head snapped up when she heard her cyborg's name being called. She wasn't just going to allow that, and they had no right to just send him away without her permission. He belonged to her. He did not listen to anyone but her. It's just a quick mission, they said. No need to worry. A week was neither quick nor a guaranteed victory, but it was best not to make a scene in front of everyone, she thought. She had a reputation to keep, and anyone could take that her cyborg was her weak point. After all, killing them after the meeting, was not hard to squeeze into her busy schedule, nor would it make people think her differently.

Blood was something that she could easily pushed other matters to the side to make room for.

A clawed hand closed around her shoulder, and she stiffened up, knowing fully well who it was. "Don't worry, angel," Reaper growled, his voice betrayed how pleased he was with the new arrangement. "I'll take care of him." He knew how Genji was not in a sane state of mind. He was meek, and easy to manipulate, perfect for any monster such as the Reaper.

She fixed his white mask with a icy stare, and smiled, but it never touched her eyes. "You can go do that, and you may regret the rest of your life." He laughed back then, saying that she could do anything worse to him in his current state. She merely responded by opening up her hand, and flexing one index finger. No action was immediate, she noted down, but it had sent the man to his knees, writhing in pain. "The nanites in your blood are my very creation." She continued to smile, sweeping her gaze across the room. "While I could not get them to separate from you, I found a way to bring you, or any of these men in the room down at a single gesture."

She looked around the room once more, before releasing her hold on Reaper, and stalking out the room. The name Angel of Death, followed her out from the men whispering in the room, even weeks after.

The last night they had before the mission, was spent with him curled up against her chest, as she stroked his back, and whispered comforts to him. He spoke only in Japanese, when he wanted to cry, and this pleased her. He did not want to leave her. He did not want to be anywhere without her. Separation anxiety was easier to induce than she expected, she noted down.

-

Angela had waited expectingly when the transport had landed, yet she did not see her cyborg exit. She questioned Reaper, knowing the man would have more than watched him, and asked of his wellbeing, in exchange for his. It was not until hours after when she found him, not at the transport, but under the spray of the training showers instead. He must have been there for hours, hot water running down his armour, sending a fine mist into the air.

"Genji." She reached out to grab his arm, but flinched back when her hand met the scalding metal. Dried blood was caked between the plates of his armour and the strands of synthetic muscle, but thankfully, none of it was his. Her fingers itched to clean it off, but more pressing matters were at hand. "What is wrong?"

She was met with the blank slate of his visor instead. She sighed and reached to turn the handle off, the hot water causing her skin to blossom a pink colour. She ignored the pain as she reached for his heated metal hand lead him away, back to their shared quarters in the Talon base. There, she cleaned him properly, carefully scraping the dried blood off and wiping him down. She lead him to the bed before caring for herself.

Her hands had blistered over, where she made contact with the metal of his armour, but the nanites in her blood were already at work as fixing it. Dried blood was caught between her fingernails, and she carelessly cleaned it out and took a quick cold shower, scrubbing off the day's dirt and sweat.

Angela lay next to her cyborg, cradling his smaller form to herself. The metal on his body had cooled to a comfortable warm. He was shaking, she realized. So broken and frail like how he used to be in the earlier days of Overwatch. She only wonders what happened on the mission which caused this to happen. She'd bet it was Reaper.

"I'm a monster," he spoke, hours after they had laid there in silence. Of all things he could have said, this was the one she didn't expect. Half a decade ago, she had expected him to call her a monster, for doing this to him. Blame her for his pain, yet nothing came, just a quiet acceptance.

Later into the night, she woke to a sound. She doesn't even remember falling asleep. A glass smashed to the ground, sent spinning by Genji's outstretched hand. Her eyes snapped open, focusing on his body, facing away from her, in the middle of the room. His hands were prying at the permanent metal attachments on his head. A frustrated cry escaped from his lips, as his blunt fingers did nothing but dent the metal. Nothing to relive himself from the pain.

She threw the sheets off and ran to him, ignoring the pain of the glass shards digging into her feet. "Genji, stop!" She wrapped her arms around his body, hoping to keep him from hurting himself. He was too strong. Her cyborg pushed her away, making her fall. Her head hit the edge of the desk, blood already flowing from the wound, and the glass dug into her skin, yet she lay there, her eyes wide with surprise. Genji looked down at her in horror of what he just done. His eyes were distant and unfocused. She had seen him like this before, when he was scared or panicking. He fled the room, trying to escape what was happening.

 _He pushed me_ , she thought. _He pushed me._

Her cyborg usually came back to her after. Usually.

-

Dawn came, the sunlight glinting off the shards of glass peppering the floor. Her head no longer hurt, just a dull throb in the background. Removing the glass was a pain, but it healed fast, with the help of the nanomachines. Washing the blood was yet another reminder of the night before, that Genji had still not come back yet.

Angela didn't worry. Perhaps he had finally seen what she had done to him. Perhaps he had finally left for good. She knew it would have come eventually.

-

She always slept on her front, her hands tucked under the pillow. It was a habit she gained when they were on the run from Overwatch, having a gun under her pillow, always. When a hand brushed down her back, late at night, the reaction was immediate. She whipped out the gun, only to have it knocked out of the air, and her entire body to be pulled forward, arms wrapping around her in an embrace. Her head fell against the crook of a neck and she relaxed at the familiar cool metal that she felt from under her thin shirt.

"Moushi wake arimasen deshita." _I'm sorry. I feel terrible._

"Genji." Angela tried to pull away, but the arms pulled her tighter to him.

His voice was breaking around the edges, and she could barely understand the words that slurred out of his mouth. "Makoto ni moushiwake gozaimasen deshita." _I'm sorry. Please forgive me._

"Genji." He didn't listen, and continued to babble in his native tongue, whispering with his voice shaky until he dissolved into silent sobs that racked his body.

_I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry._

_I wasn't thinking-_

_Forgive me,_

_Angel._

"It's fine, Genji," she spoke, as she stroked her hand down his spine. "It's fine. No one got hurt-" _but me_. She kept the last part to herself, not needing her cyborg to hurt, just yet. "It's fine," she repeated. "Everything is going to all right."

-

It's been a week since her cyborg had left, and mere days since he came back, yet she had only found out why, recently.

Tekhartha Zenyatta, they were called. An outcast monk from the Shambali, for his rather violent measures to gain control of the group after their leader, Mondatta had died. The struggle of leadership had ended up having the organization casting him out instead of harsher punishments, and they had sworn vengeance against the peace-offering group since then.

The omnic had found Genji on the roof of the base, a day ago, in the pouring rain. He had reacted violently when they had approached, but they had managed to subdue him by some means with the orbs floating around their neck. She did not know exactly what they were, but the dark eerie glow that radiated off of it did not seem natural.

They stood in front of her, while she eyed their choice of clothing. It was of eastern setting. While she did not know where exactly, the crown on their head, and the gold designs on the robe were universal symbols of power. Their 'face' if one could call it that, was blank, and looked bored, and when they spoke, their mouth did not move. Their eyes, however, did, and tracked you with precession but with a look of contempt, like they were above all other sentient life forms.

Omnics, she thought with distaste, were man's worst and greatest creations.

Zenyatta had laughed darkly, brushing off her thanks, like it wasn't up to his standards. "It is hard to find ones as broken as your cyborg. You are lucky." Their lifeless eyes gleamed with something akin to greed. "Because when you do, it isn't hard to shape their hate and pain, then hone it into a fine blade."

Angela waited patiently for the omnic to finish with their speech, saying how they had envisioned a world of peace, where only the strongest survived, and everyone was ruled by an iron grip at the top. She could have cared less, while they lived in their dreams, she would change the present.

But a little help couldn't ever hurt.

-

She slammed her hand on the hacker's desk, making her jump. "The program you made for me, will it work for omnics?"

Sombra looked up at her and cursed, quickly closing off some tabs and exiting pages of coding. "Why would it matter? You aren't trying to recreate some type of omnic war, are you?"

"Answer the question." She stared hard into her purple eyes. "Do it as a favour, or I can tell the higher ups about Russia."

She frowned up at her, her brows knit in disbelief. "How did you know about- Lemme guess, Widow?"

Angela let out a bark of laughter. How naive of her to think that she would trust Talon's assassin. "Talon has their fingers deep into Widowmaker's brain. If she knew what you did for sure, you'd be dead by now." She leaned closer to the younger woman. "A trade then. I have upgrades for your cybernetics, in exchange for information."

She saw the calculations going through Sombra's head. Her technology was renowned and famous all over the world, even before she had joined Talon, and years later, it would be more advanced and would greatly benefit the hacker, but the problem here would be trust. She knew of Sombra's past, and how she had built her way up to where she was now, by trusting no one.

But, she knew she would agree in the end. She always knew.

Even Sombra, herself, never really knew just how good she was. Angela had to admit that her skills in infiltrating, coding and building firewalls were beyond anything she had seen, but she was just too good, and she couldn't allow that. Sooner or later, the hacker could potentially take over her own technology, and possibly turn it against her. A risk not worth taking.

It was a shame. She had liked Sombra, yet she was just another pawn, like Reaper, who was under her control. The program she had written for Genji, had become her own worst nightmare. Unknowingly, when Sombra had gotten hurt and was sent to her office for treatment, she had uploaded the program into her cybernetic half, and so far, it had worked. Sombra hadn't noticed a thing, and acted accordingly whenever she spoke to her.

-

Angela smiled that night, the small USB weighed heavily in her lab coat pocket, as she walked down the hall. It had potential to change the world. But first, she needed a test subject.

Perhaps Zenyatta will get their wish after all. A world ruled by and iron grip, but it wouldn't be him at the top. With the increasing amount of people installing cybernetics, and herself cracking the code to Talon's brainwashing secrets, nothing was out of her reach.

The world wasn't too far away.

 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of this chapter was inspired by the Tang Sanzang Zenyatta skin. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit different and explores what Genji would have done in this timeline and who Zenyatta is. Basically Zenyatta wanted to take over the Shambali but they didn't like him or some shit and kicked him out, Malice is just being creepy and rip everyone in the world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pain _(pān)_ noun
> 
>   1. physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury.
>   2. careful effort; great care or trouble.
> 


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING please read this before moving onto the story.** This chapter is flagged for implied rape/non-con. There is no actual smut (sorry I just couldn't, not again) but this warning is still here. Just to be clear, while I do enjoy these themes inside stories, I do not encourage them in real life. 
> 
> With that being said, enjoy I guess.

_-_

_There was blood, everywhere. Genji fell to his knees, the once white carpet, which was tinted red, splashed underneath him. He did this, all of this._

_Something always happened during missions, something strange. A deep hunger, a buried thirst for blood, it always came out of nowhere. He thought it was a feeling that he had sated when going after his own family's blood, slathering all who did him wrong. Maybe it was just something that was in his nature._

_Whenever someone pointed a direction to him, off he went, sword swinging with no remorse. The aftershocks always came after, like now, kneeling on the carpet as the blood dried on his body. Why that happened, he wasn't so sure. Angela wouldn't let anyone do anything to him right?_

_Angela._

_He wanted her. He wanted Angela. She took the pain away, the memories… everything. She took it all from him and there was nothing left. He could sleep peacefully after. No more guilt. No more pain. He was free._

_She wasn't here now, but someone else was._

_A dull throbbing started in his head, which spiked into a sharp pain and quickly spread to all his limbs. He fell forward, falling into the squelching carpet and panted for breath. His breathing was shallow, constricted, and the pain was so raw, it was like someone had taken a torch to his nerves. No- not now. This never happened during missions before._

_Genji pulled his legs closer to his chest and curled himself up. The pain always passed, eventually, but did he have time? Where was he? He couldn't remember. What if he was caught? Did it matter? Through a haze of pain, he registered footsteps approaching, and claws gripping his shoulders._

_"We have to go."_

_-_

_He doesn't remember much, just the rhythm of his heart, and his shallow breathing. There was a noise in the background, a deep thrumming, to the likes of the helicopter blades swinging._

_"Is he hurt?"_

_The claws around his shoulder and legs gripped him tighter, holding him like a vice. "No. Bring us back to the rendezvous."_

_There was the feeling of being airborne. Floating weightlessly through the air._

_Pain._

_Smoke._

_Darkness._

_He doesn't remember the rest anymore._

_-_

_He woke again when a door slammed shut. He was sitting on the floor, his legs splayed behneath him in an awkward position. The pain simmered in the background, waiting to be released._

_"Alone at last," a voice purred, a dark rumble that sent a chill down his spin._

_Everything appeared blurry, a rippling shadow looming over him. The claws- the claws dug into his neck and threw him to the side. He landed on something white and soft, sinking under him. A weight landed on his legs, pinning him to place, and something leaned over him, replacing the white tiles of the ceiling with a black smoke. This close up, he could see the white bone of the shadow's mask._

_A clawed hand reach for his own mask, tearing it off its hinges without any resistance. Chapped lips met his own, and he shrunk away, but claws dug into the soft flesh under his chin, and forced him to turn back the wraith. The same hand also wrenched his jaw open, letting the smoky tendrils wander into his mouth._

_It was disgusting. He couldn't breath, the smoke making him choke. The pain flared back to life, making his entire body heave in pain. Blunt fingers did nothing to loosen the wraith's grip, just leaving small bruises on his back and arms. He finally wrenched his head out of the claw's grasp, drawing blood, and pushed the man off._

_He rolled off the bed, but couldn't get up, shakily falling back to his hands and knees. A foot planted itself on the back of his neck, forcing him to the ground._

_"There's no angel to come save you now."_

_-_

Reaper woke in the morning, on his side, with Genji curled up against his bare chest. The cyborg's mask was back on, the red visor reflecting dimly off of his black armour. He looked so small, fragile, and- cute. He was like a cat, the wraith realized. The little 'fins' on his helmet seemed to support that as well.

The cyborg suddenly took in a sharp intake of breath, flinching away from him. For a second, he thought the other had woken, but quickly realized that he was just moving in his sleep. Genji let out a pained whimper, and clutched at the base of his neck, curling himself into a even tighter ball. He was in pain, he realized. From what, he didn't know.

"It's okay." Reaper stroked a hand down his back, making him relax slightly. He wrapped his arms around the cyborg's torso. "You're not alone." He placed a kiss on his helmet, and held him in place as his body shook, wave after wave with pain. He was content to stay like this just for a while longer.

_-_

_Searing water cascaded down on him, past the plates of armour on his shoulders, but it still couldn't wash the feelings of guilt off his skin- or what was left of it. He had woke than morning, feeling safe and satisfied, enclosed in the pair of arms around him. But they did not belong to her._

_Something grabbed hold of his arm, shaking him out of his thoughts, but as soon as it was there, it was gone._

_"Genji, what is wrong?"_

_He turned, locating the voice. It was her. She was here. Angela. He wanted to call out, to say her name, but was afraid that his tongue would betray him. She sighed, and he could see the look of disappointment in her eyes, as well as a trace of annoyance and contempt._

_The water stopped, and she pulled him away, leading him around the base to their room, all the while he felt a white hot knife of guilt eating away at him. She cleaned him up and sent him to the bed, and he was content just to listen to her again. She was here. Things were going to be okay again._

_Angela came back to him, hugging his smaller frame to herself, on the bed, an arm gently tracing down the back of his body. She did not speak. There was no need. She more than likely already knew everything. She always did._

_The dragged on silence did nothing to help him, just bring back the memories of the day before. He could remember the people in the building, the ones that tried to run, or the ones who tried to fight him. He remembered their faces, each and every one of them. Did it matter? They were all dead now, dead to his own hands._

_"I'm a monster." His voice came out flat and emotionless._

_He remembers a mother and her two children. The innocent smiles on their faces and the balloons in their hands as they crossed the street. He remembers an old man. The one with the wrinkles around his eyes and a warm smile on his face, as he walked his dog. He remembers the group of teenagers walking into the hotel, joking and laughing together._

_He also remembers the balloons floating into the sky, as the children screamed for their headless mother, and the dog biting his leg as he slain its owner, and the teenagers, their eyes wide with fear as he held his sword out, bloodied from the others lives he had taken. He also remembers how it was their blood that painted the carpet floor that day, forever burned into his memory._

_Angela's breathing next to him had gone steady and deep. She was asleep, yet he couldn't._

_Most of all, he remembered Reaper. How the other man had touched him- used him. He was rough, and uncaring, unlike Angela, who was clever, and could make him yield under her crafty touch. As much as he wanted, he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Reaper could give him something she never could. Guilt pooled in his chest. Angela had given him everything, anything he wanted, and what had he done? Given away the only thing she wanted- owned- to another man. Himself._

_Genji slipped carefully out from her arms, to not disturb her, and got to his feet. His hands were shaking again, it seemed only fitting that the pain came back now. But- she was here. What if he hurt her? Angela never knew his pain. He hid it well, running off at times and returning when the silent sobs racked his body dry. She worried at first, asking where he went, but soon she just accepted it as him going off to clear his mind, or to blow off steam. This time, he couldn't get away fast enough._

_It always came with little warning, a blistering headache which speared into his mind, and he tried to grab onto something-anything for support. His hand hit something off the nightstand, and it shattered on the ground. The pain came in waves he fell to his knees, clutching his head._

_What was it? Where was it? Fingers pulled at the metal encased into his skull. It didn't come off. He wanted to get rid of it. His fingers dug into the metal plating, denting it and snapping off one of the triangles on his helmet._

_"Genji, stop!"_

_Arms wrapped around his body, and suddenly Reaper was grinning down at him again, showing off his canines before sinking them into his neck. No- he didn't want- he couldn't. He pushed the other man away with such force that he, too, fell over. Only that it wasn't Reaper-_

_It was Angela._

_Her beautiful blue eyes stared up at him, eyes wide in surprise, as blood cascaded from the side of her head. He was sure that he had killed her when she did nothing but stare up at him. Then she blinked, once, twice. She was alive._

_Still, he panicked, and ran. For all the things she had done for him, this was how he treated her in return? First Reaper, now this. He had hurt her, his own guardian angel. What would she think of him now?_

_He knew of Angela's wraith, and how all the others all avoided her, after all, she always came to him when she needed to take her anger out on someone. Most of his parts were readily replaceable, and she knew that he wouldn't dare lift a finger against her, no matter the circumstance. It was not respect, he discovered after he woke once, his head in turmoil, but thoughts surprisingly clear. It was fear._

_In the midst of all the pain and hurt, he would sometimes hate her. Hate her for making him like this. Hate her for doing this. Hate her for saving him. What life was this? To be constantly ripped to shreds just to be put back together again._

_He always wanted to ask, why him? Yet he never had the heart to look directly into her eyes._

_But he didn't blame her. He knew she was hurt as well. He didn't know by what, because she would never show it, to him, or anyone._

_Without any reason, why did he stay? Angela never forced him to do anything knowing that he wouldn't object anymore. She let him have time to heal if he had too much, or just needed to get away. Why did he always let her? Why did he always come back? This he never knew. It was like his conscious was on a leash held by her hand, reeling him back to her after he had gone too far. Was there a reason to stay? Come back just to run away again?_

_It wasn't until he got onto the roof, did he realize where he was. This was the place he always ran to when the pain was too much. It sometimes drove him mad, lashing out at everything, but here, he couldn't hurt anyone. It was the same place he went to think. He would often lie down, watching the stars until they faded away into the dawn._

_He collapsed on the edge of the flat roof, falling forward onto his hands and knees and breathed in the cool air. He realized that he had forgot his mask back in her room, and his face was now exposed to the world. The air was cool, and the wind was gentle on his face, helping him take the focus off the pain._

_Back then, Hanzo had urged him to practice mediating together. How much he wished he had listened to his brother instead of drinking his problems away. He couldn't even drink much anymore. Perhaps other- things would also be different if he had listened to his brother more._

_He didn't know how long he stayed there, watching the stars travel across the sky and the dark clouds gathering. The sky changed from a dark blue- almost black- to a purple-gray, mixed with flashes of orange and red behind the clouds, from the hidden sun. It made his eyes hurt watching the colours blend together without the filters of his mask, but it was still beautiful all the same. His eyes had been damaged during his fight with Hanzo, but not to the extent that he became blind. Too bright objects made his eyes ache and nothing focused and appeared blurry, similar to objects that were too close to a camera._

_The serene silence was interrupted when his enhanced hearing picked up the sound of whirring from some sort of machine. He spun around, trying to locate the sound. Behind him was an omnic, the appeared to be floating off the ground- he dismissed this as another fault in his vision. It was dressed in gold and green, with some sort of crown on it's head, perhaps trying to mimic the look of an emperor? He wasn't sure. It was all too unfocused to him._

_"Ah, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that I was interrupting anything." The omnic stayed where it was, and turned toward horizon. With every passing second, the fact that he wasn't wearing his mask bothered him even more. The omnic was probably watching his expression. After a while, it spoke quietly, "It's quite beautiful, isn't it? I come up here each day to watch the sunrise."_

_Genji remained quiet, watching the omnic for any sign that it moved or if it was hostile. The swollen clouds above let out its first drops of rain._

_"Why are you here, my friend?" Silence. "Not much of a speaker, hm? Perhaps I can fix that." It floated closer to him, and reached out a hand. He jerked back from the hand intruding in his space, aware of how close he was to the the edge of the roof. He could hear clearly now, the fat drops of rain hitting the roof, and bouncing off his armour. "Allow me to help you. I can show you the way of the Iris-"_

_"I don't need your help!" He swiped at the hand with a shuriken, misjudging the distance and making a gash in the omnic's arm. Even with his blurred vision, he could see the wires sticking out. Thunder rumbled in the distance._

_It drew back with haste, the air seeming like it was charged between them. He couldn't see it's expression- if it had one-but he was sure that it was of disgust and annoyance. It brought out another hand, but a purple orb materialized from it, glowing a deathly purple. It was the thing of nightmares, reflecting upon one's worst wishes-_

_And that was when the first lightning bolt hit._

_The tendrils of the orb attached to him, the places they connected to seemed to burn and eat away at his nerves. The quieted throbbing behind his eyes flared back to life, it's pain increasing tenfold._

_His head hit the roof with a dull thud, as the lightning flickered above. Rain came down in sheets, rather than drops, drowning everything. His eyes stung, and instantly, his mouth and nose was filled with water. Thunder roared, and the sky seemed to get darker with it- or was it just his vision? His limbs were too heavy, and there was a feeling of phantom pain again, yet he forced himself to look up at the omnic, it's silhouette defined by the lightning, as the storm approached it's peak._

_"You will learn respect, pet."_

_The world narrowed to a tiny pinprick and his head hit the roof of the base once more._

_-_

_He was wrong to ever think he could leave. Without her protection, without her presence, he was not safe. He understood now, why she kept him on a short leash. It was not so she could keep him with her forever, but for his own safety. The world was not kind. People like Reaper and that omnic stalked around every corner, watching and waiting for a time to strike. Would she still care for him if he came back? He had hurt her, after all she had done for him. He had been nothing but ungrateful. How dared he even think of leaving._

_He slipped back through her window late at night, after the omnic had let him go. It had apologize to him for striking out at him, saying it was a flaw in his programming and had done it's best to repair the damage the rain and the orb had done to his armour. It only wanted to help others, but it always kept him back when every little thing provoked him._

_Lies. He believed nothing, no more. Only Angela's word. Her, and no one else._

_He stared down at her now, sleeping fitfully under the bedsheets. The nightgown she wore had slipped of to one side, exposing a long, healed scar that she had just behind the shoulderblade and led midway down her spine. He had never seen it before. He didn't know why, but he touched it, brushing his hand down her back, tracing the length of the scar._

_When she flew at him with a gun, it came at him with no surprise. He grabbed the muzzle of the gun and pulled her forward, knocking it out of her grip, and pulling her into an embrace. She relaxed against him, breathing a sigh of relief._

_He was sorry. He was so sorry. He held her tight in his grip, burying his face into her angel-like hair. Would she ever forgive him? He had promised to her that he would protect her. He felt tears- he didn't even know he could cry- trail down his face, following the scars which marred what he once valued the most._

_"Genji." He didn't realize that she was calling him, yet he ignored her, mumbling his apologies. "It's fine, Genji," Angela spoke again, cutting him off. She stroked her hand down his spine, as if it was a comfort. "It's fine. No one got hurt-" The unspoken words hung in the air, and heavy on his heart. He could hear the bitter edge to her voice, and knew what was to come. The words were kind, but her tone unsettled him. That's what he fear the most._

_"It's fine. Everything is going to all right."_

_For now._

_He knew. He always knew._

 

_-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might have seemed a little choppy? Idk. I'm not really good with Genji's perspective and in this timeline, he's kinda really messed up. Also, everyone else in this timeline is a little messed up. 
> 
> Anyway, since we're on the topic, holy shit those Blackwatch Genji and McCree skins! Yesss. Oh and Widow. Don't forget her. Blizzard, you gotta stop getting your things leaked ok? Like it's nice and all but kinda ruins the surprise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> break·ing point _(ˈbrākiNG ˌpoint)_ noun
> 
>   1. the moment of greatest strain at which someone or something gives way.
> 


~

 As a young girl, her parents told her not to play too roughly with her toys, because if she did, they would break. She had ignored her parents, back when they were still alive. Back when she was only a few years old, with her hair done up innocently in pigtails with blue ribbons. She was careless and dropped the toy doll, causing it's head snap off. It stared at her from the grass, it's painted eyes pinning her in place. Years later, she could still vividly remember it smiling up at her, jumpstarting her obsession with body parts.

Looking down at the pathetic state Genji was in now, made Angela wish that she had listened to her parents. Just another doll with replaceable parts. His calves were bound to the legs of a metal chair, his right arm was missing and his organic arm hung there by a thread, blood covering the floor. She had already stopped the blood flow with her nanotechnology, to prevent it from becoming a fatal injury. An empty IV was still hooked into the side of his neck, its contents lost in his body hours ago. It was Reaper's blood, infused with the nanomachines that regenerated and broke down his body tissues. From past test subjects, she knew that even a small dose of it would cause the person hours of agonizing pain, as the blood swept through their body.

She didn't like it. She didn't like how his skin was marked, how touches were carved into his body, touches which weren't her own. There was a cut above Genji's upper lip, which looked more like teeth marks by the second. Broken ribs, which didn't seem to be caused by injury, but excessive weight on his frame instead. The synthetic muscle around his thighs were softened, similar to how the faux skin would react to bruising.

Reaper didn't even try to hide it, leaving the marks out so blatantly. The smug in his voice was so clear when she had asked him the state and whereabouts of her cyborg.

There was a blindfold tied around his unmasked face, keeping him from seeing as she pulled the IV out and retrieved a syringe. She filled it with a tincture that she had mixed up just hours ago, from a small bottle. It was a new poison she was trying out for interrogations, that supposedly paralyzed one's body and caused excruciating pain. It was lethal in large doses, but she had no concerns, knowing the exact limits of her cyborg's body.

Angela stood behind him, ghosting her hand down the side of Genji's neck, making him shiver. Even like this, he was so responsive. She traced kisses down the length of it, pausing when she reached the place above his collarbone. He whined slightly in protest, but was cut short with a quick intake of breath when she slipped him the needle. Genji shook, pain wracking his body as he tried to pull away at straps around his chest, binding him to the chair. His body finally gave out, submitting to the paralysis agent shutting down his systems, and slumped to the side. He went still, save for the occasional jerks, a side effect that she noted down.

She smiled, pleased of the success of the new poison. Angela pulled out the bottled antidote, pausing right before she slipped a new syringe into it.

It could wait. His artificial body will ensure he survived the next hours. She had other work to do. She placed it down on a table next to him, letting it clink against the identical vial of poison. Angelagave him a once over before she left, slamming the door and leaving him in the dark.

She had much to do, and so little time.

-

_The UN was at its peak at the time, and they wouldn't let anything drag them down, not even Overwatch. After the reveal of all the Blackwatch's dark secrets, and non-existent missions, the media and world had been at the UN's doorstep, crying for something to be done. That something just happened to include confiscating all her research, her life's work. Why? Probally and ulterior move to try and take her cyborg from her. She didn't exactly know. That was not the most important thought on her mind at the time._

_Angela sat on top of her office desk with her knees hugged to her chest, as she watched people hauling everything out of the room. It was okay, she told herself. It's going to be fine. Everything can just be rebuilt, remade. Yet, her breath still caught in her throat when she saw them moving her Valkyrie suit out. Gone, was her nanotechnology, her Caduseus staff, even her Caduseus pistol. It's okay. She could always just remake it eventually. It just took time. All of her things could have been recreated, all but one._

_Her office was empty, save for a few stray pieces of paper strewn about the floor, which were no interest of the men who moved everything out. They had been long gone as well, along with most of her belongings. She was alone, sitting on the desk in the same position for hours now, the silent tears finally rolling down her cheeks. Everything was gone, all of her life's work._

_The door opened, and she thought it was them, coming back to confiscate anything they may have missed- the clock on the wall, perhaps. Why not? They already had taken everything else._

_It was Genji that came in instead, still dressed in his Overwatch uniform, the green lights on his body shining through the thin fabric. It wasn't so much to cover up his already armoured body, but more so to mark that he was on their side, least he be mistaken for an omnic. The cyborg walked up to her silently and took her hands into his own._

_She didn't have to say anything because he already knew. The barren room was more than enough of an explanation. He held her close, his arms hugging her like a safety blanket as her head burrowed into his neck. They stayed like that for a while until the door opened again, Jack and the men walking back in. One look into the Strike Commander's eyes and she knew._

_"I'm sorry, Angela." Like hell he was. She knew why they were here. It was always going to happen eventually. "He's going to have to come with us."_

_"No." That was final. She wouldn't let them take him away without his permission. He had a life too- a choice. Genji wasn't just a machine that they could use. He was as human as anyone else. Whatever debts he owed Overwatch- Blackwatch- shouldn't take away his say. Wasn't whatever Overwatch's cyberneticists done to his body enough?_

_Jack sighed, already knowing that she would say that. "It's not your choice. Don't make me do this, Angela. Please?"_

_Genji had gone stiff against her, his arms slowly dropping back to his side. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, glaring at Jack through the tears in her eyes. "No. Have you not taken enough from me? Take my technology, take my life work- is that not enough?"_

_"Angela," Genji whispers into her hair. "It's okay. It's fine. Just-" He tries to pull away._

_"No, it's not." She knows how unreasonable she was acting. She knows how unprofessional she might seem to the men. She knows, but she's lost too much already. Her parents had died when she was very young, leaving her with her grandparents to raise her. Months before she joined Overwatch, they had passed away as well. She had no one. No one but him. "Don't let- don't let them take you."_

_"Angela, please," the cyborg whispers, brushing away the tears falling down her cheeks with his thumb. She didn't even realize that they were there. "Don't cry, I have to. My family is still out there doing bad things to others. I don't want this to happen to anyone else. I have to stop them."_

_"Time to go." One of the men put a hand in Genji's shoulder, trying to pull him from her grip. He shook them off and pulled her into an embrace, hugging her like it would be the last time he saw her._

_"Ai shiteru yo, Angela-chan." It wasn't a statement of acceptance, more of one of a bittersweet regret. She didn't have to see his face- his eyes to know. He let go, dropping his hands to the side._

_Angela stared at him, eyes wide with hurt. That was it? Just ending whatever they had between them, just like that? Her arms were still wrapped around his neck when he tried to pull away, but only managed to pull her off the desk and make them stand chest-to chest. "Don't-"_

_Jack held her by the shoulders from behind, pulling her away from Genji. "Just let him go. It's his choice."_

_"No!" Angela tried to pull out of Jack's grasp, but the super soldier was just much too strong. She fell against his chest, tears cascading down her cheeks as she watched Genji turn to leave, starting to follow the men out. She'll never see him again. He'll be gone into Blackwatch like he never existed in the first place._

_Jack's grip had gone slightly lax against her, and using that to her advantage, she twisted an arm from his grip and elbowed him in the nose. She heard a sickening crunch and a liquid wet her elbow. No matter how strong, a blow to the nose was always enough to stun the toughest of men. It was because of the surrounding nerves, behind the cartilage, that ran straight into the brain. He let go of her to clutch at his broken nose, and she ran out of his arms reach._

_"Genji, don't go!" Angela begged, grabbing his arm and watching him through teary eyes. The cyborg paused looking back at her. "Please. You're all I have left." She thought that his mind was made up, to leave her when she needed him the most, but she had thought wrong._

_"D-don't-" Genji started, his voice finally breaking, showing how hard he was trying to stay strong for her- for both of them. She wasn't the one that should be this concerned. It was him that was leaving her side- leaving his safety. It was him that was going to be put in danger- danger of anyone who would wish him harm. It was him who was outcast from society, people who would think he was no better than omnic. "Don't make this harder than it already is, for both of us. We already knew this would happen."_

_"What if- what if you don't come back?"_

_The cyborg hushed her, putting a finger over her lips. "Don't- don't say that. I will." He hesitantly raised his arms and tentatively wrapped them around her again, burying his head into her hair. "I will," he whispered. "And when I come back, we'll figure this all out. I won't leave you alone, and if it means leaving with you, so be it."_

_Angela nodded, squeezing her eyes shut and letting the tears fall freely down her face. She could feel Jack's eyes on her back, behind her, and the men watching her from the door, as she pulled Genji closer, not wanting to let go. He won't be long, she thought again and again. If it would come to it, they would have to leave. Leave everything she'd ever know. Leave everything that she thought was right. Leave everything behind, to stay with him._

_If it came to it, so be it._

-

Angela woke, her face wet. The pillow she had laid down on was soaked with tears, something that hadn't happen in a while. Just like in the dream, back in Overwatch, her arms were still hugging him, holding him still- holding him here.

She could tell that Genji was awake, from the way he was tensed up and shaking ever so slightly. Her fingers, she realized, had been digging painfully into his back, making moon-shaped crescents into the synthetic skin. She had fixed him up just last night, or rather, a few hours ago, after she finished up her work and gave him the antidote. The newly grafted skin was always too sensitive after it was just placed on, surly making it more painful when she had gripped on to him in her sleep.

She had gone too far this time, she knew. She should have spared his remaining arm, but it was a bit too late, seeing the new limb already attached to his body. Her cyborg had lost too much already, and here she was, taking even more. He would be feeling that for weeks after, never getting better.

By now, every single part in his cybernetic half had been replaced, from all the pain she had caused him. The only component that remained from what Overwatch's cybernetics had made him into, were the metal headpiece covering his head, more of an aesthetic than having an actual function. They did a terrible job, she thinks now. Genji used to be thrice as heavy back then, and much less fast. Hues of green, gray and brown. Who chose those colours? It definitely didn't suit him, rather for people who were leader, perfect, strong. Not people who would cower in fear, and broken into such small pieces, they couldn't even be put back together again. He was better now. She fixed him up, mentally, and physically. He was stronger, he was obedient. He was everything she ever wanted him to be.

"I'm sorry," Angela sighed, loosening her grip on his body. She rubbed the area, where her nails had pierced the synthetic skin, in slow soothing circles. Genji relaxed under her touch and she heard him let out a small sigh. He had gave up so much for her, and she repays him like this.

She still remembers the day he had come back at night, bloody and half broken, almost literally begging her to leave, to take him away someplace where Blackwatch couldn't make him hurt any more people. She'll never forget that day.

-

_It was the wind that woke her up, the cool air piercing though her conscience and pulling her from a dreamless sleep. Angela doesn't remember leaving the window open last night. She turned her body the other way to look when her leg bumped into something on the other end of the bed. Through the dark, she could make out a familiar hunched shape. The moonlight filtering through the open window, illuminated the dark blood drying at the foot of her bed._

_He was here. He was back._

_"Genji?" The shape moved when she spoke, twisting around to face at her. Red, glowing eyes peered at her from the darkness. She quickly reached over and flicked the lights on, revealing a foreign, yet familiar face. His eyes- his eyes were red. That was the first thing she noticed, but not the last. Gone was his Overwatch uniform, and his full face mask. Gone was his armour, the green and grays interchanged with red and black. The armour on his left arm was gone, exposing the scared limb. His hair showed above his headpiece. He looked different, but it was definitely him. "What did they do to you?"_

_The Blackwatch symbol was branded on the centre of his chest, marking him as theirs. Their tool, their weapon- their cyborg._

_"I-I can't stay for long. They'll come and find me." Genji turned his body around on the bed to face her. "I just wanted to come see you."_

_"They?" Angela looked at the cyborg in alarm. "What's going on?"_

_"I- they found out about us- our plans." The cyborg continued like she hadn't interrupted and hunch back over. "We should leave while we can."_

_"Leave? But I-" She remembers their parting words, ones where they said they would run away, like all those cliché movies she watched as a child. She never thought that they would actually do that._

_Genji must have seen the surprise and reluctance in her eyes. "I-I knew it. I shouldn't have come." His voice was layered with hurt. She felt guilty that he felt this way. They both had agreed on leaving together, but now it must have seemed to him that she backed out. "They'll come hurt you to find me. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."_

_"Genji, no. It's not like that! I just didn't think-" What could she say? That she didn't think that he would come back? That she had to keep her word?_

_"It's okay." The cyborg's eyes were watery as he met her gaze. All the light she had seen within them- the hope- dissipated. He thought she was cutting him off. "Its not my place to drag you from your home. Maybe I will see you again, in a better time- a better place- one day. I have to get going before they catch up."_

_"Wait, I don't understand." She shifted closer to him and held his hands. He was crying, she realized. The glowing red lens in his eyes reflected off the tears he was trying to hold back. "Who's coming? Why are you running- from who are you running? Tell me Genji. What happened? What did they do to you?"_

_"Nothing-" he paused, thinking over his words. He probably didn't want to lie to her, even if he felt like it would protect her. "Blackwatch. They made me k-kill people. I didn't want any of this. They changed me to a monster." He looked down at his own hands. "I can't stay here. They'll come for me." He stood, heading toward the window._

_"Genji, wait." She grabbed his arm, looking into his eyes. She won't let him go so easily- like the last time. "I'm coming with you."_

_"No, you can't. I shouldn't even have come. I'm not going to drag you into this."_

_"You don't have the choice in the matter. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not." Angela led him over to the closet, not letting go of him, afraid that he would run. She packed a small bag of essentials, and donned her Valkyrie suit, which she had taken the past year to get back. It had taken days of agonizing stare downs and multiple court days, but she did it. She got it all back. All but Genji. It was difficult putting it on with just with one hand, but she heard him sigh and helped her put it on._

_"Angela, please." She heard the desperation in his voice just as she turned toward the window. "Don't do this. You'll loose everything."_

_"Without you, Sparrow, I already don't have anything." She cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his masked mouth. She won't let him leave her- ever again. "I know the risks. Just promise me one thing."_

_"Anything." He was shaking again._

_"Promise me that you'll stay with me and that you'll be there with me, no matter what. We'll be together, no matter where we go."_

_Genji nods, pulling her close and burying his face into his hair. "I'll protect you. I promise."_

-

His back still hurt where Angela's nails had pierced his synthetic skin nights ago, but it was no more than an bothersome sting in his back. Thankfully, he didn't bleed, having that to be grateful for, at least. The faux skin would eventually knit itself back together, leaving no evidence of what she did to him.

Genji stood now, shakily swaying in his feet as he watched her sleeping peacefully, unaware that he had left her side. The pain never seemed to leave now, always a throbbing presence in the back of his mind. If he didn't think too hard, it seemed to go away and fade into the background. Other times, like now, it would leave his thoughts jumbled and sleeping fitfully.

His left arm felt too light, too hollow. He knew what she had done. He remembered what she had done, all of it. He remembered her trailing his sharp blade down his remaining arm, drawing blood, as she whispered even sharper words into his ears. He didn't even have ears anymore, just receptors that picked up sound, filling in the empty spaces in his head.

Just another thing to hate her for.

They hadn't held a proper conversation for a week now, after he had come back. Just muted apologies and halfhearted exchanges. Angela was watching him, he knew. She was watching and waiting- observing him just to see how far she could go. How far she could bend him before he finally snapped. She could see the hate in him sometimes, and would raise her chin high, staring him down- challenging him. A show of strength.

After all this time, he still hadn't had the heart to try and do anything about it.

But now, she was asleep. She was asleep and there was no one around, just in the small confines of their shared room. No one would know. No one would care. Dark voices whispered into his mind. No more chains. You'll be free. The blade in his hand felt ice cold, weighing much heavier than it actually was. Life and death balanced on the edge of his blade. He had a choice.

Was it worth all this pain? Following her- obeying her. He had a choice. He could give her mercy, and she would never even feel it. Something she'd never given him.

He had a choice, but Genji knew none of this was right, he wasn't thinking straight. The pain was making him delirious, yet the burning hunger for blood didn't seem to come from it. He sometimes wonders exactly what she did to him, why he acts the way he does now.  
  
Back in Overwatch, he was quiet because he was shy. He used to laugh now and then, whenever the cowboy made jokes. What was his name again? Right. McCree. McCree was the only other person who treated him like human, his only source of comfort in Blackwatch. Right up till the point he voiced his opinion about leaving. The cowboy changed, disappearing and telling Commander Reyes his plans. All that time Genji thought he could trust McCree was washed away when fully armed men showed up at his door, telling him to follow them. That point was when he knew. McCree was never there to be his friend. McCree was never there to make him feel accepted. McCree was never there to make him laugh.

He was only there because Commander Reyes needed to keep and eye on him, using McCree to gain his trust.

It was McCree that told him to train, to go on missions- to kill people. It was all just masking it as a friendly competition. Who could be the top fighter, who could kill the most targets, who could complete the most missions. He never felt more used in his life, back then.

The cowboy was much more clever than how he looked on the surface.

Genji had slaughtered all the men at the door, and ran. It took weeks of being chased down, hunted, before he reached his destination. Watchpoint: Gibraltar. It was risky. What if she didn't want to leave? What if she didn't want him? What- what if he was just going to be used again, just like how Blackwatch used him?

He looks back now, and sometimes wishes he stayed. He followed the men. He didn't run back to his 'angel'.

It was probably the event of McCree breaking his trust to start making him to act like this. That and whatever Angela did to him. He was quiet now, not because he was shy, but rather because he could rarely make out a sentence without stuttering. He didn't laugh anymore, but whenever he tried to, it always came out bitter and full of pain. He never trusted anyone anymore, except for Angela, always Angela. Probably her doing as well. Hell- he didn't even trust himself. He craved touch, any contact with another being. He didn't care whether it was Angela, or Reaper, or himself- he just didn't care. He needed it more than anything else, most likely another thing of her doing. He didn't even used to have a burning desire this intense for it, even when he was fully flesh. He'd never had the willpower to deny himself any of it, like it was integrated into his brain.

The last two nights, he would find himself at Reaper's door, filled with a burning guilt, a heavy desire and a nervous excitement. The wraith always answered the door, looking down at him hungrily with red eyes- even though he sometimes wished he wouldn't, so he could leave guilt free. He always left the next morning before the wraith, or Angela woke up.

It was a fine, dangerous line he was treading, between two people with equal amounts of hate toward each other, and equal danger to him. Yet, he kept going, wanting to see how this little game will end.

The blade shook in his hand as he looked down at her now. She always was beautiful, but nothing else compared to her sleeping. She was at peace, not watching him with those icy eyes, or her lulling voice calling him into her arms. The fake smiles on her face were gone as well, the ones that never reached her eyes. She was at peace, and she was sleeping.

He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. The blade clattered to the ground, and Genji fell to his knees with it. What would he do if she was gone? He had no one else. If he ran, he'd be hunted and killed, by either Talon or Overwatch. Tears formed in his eyes as he realized the hopelessness of his situation. Nowhere to run, nowhere to go. To live free of everything but in fear and constant danger, or to stay in safety but in chains. Small sobs and whimpers forced their way through his mouth. He tried to muffle them with his hand, but realized his mask was still on.

There was no point in anything anymore. Angela was the one he loved, but also the one he hated. Angela was the one who forced all these thoughts into his head, but never lied to him. Angela was the only one he still trusted- but did he really?

She was awake for sure, now. Woke by the sounds of the sword dropping to the floor and the sounds of him, the sounds of a caged dragon baying it's pain. He heard the sound of the bedsheets shuffling and saw her delicate, bare feet walking toward him. Angela could clearly see what he almost did- what he wanted to do. There was no point in hiding it. He didn't dared look up at her as she approached, his body shaking- waiting.

A hand gripped his neck with such force that it cut off his breathing. Her nails dug into neck, piercing through the cords, a clear, synthetic liquid flowing from the cuts. Angela forced his gaze upward and he saw the anger and betrayal in her blue eyes.

 _"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry."_ The tears just kept coming, rolling down his cheeks and collecting at the bottom of his mask, as he let out everything. Everything that he was feeling. Everything that he had felt the past years. Everything that he had bottled up in his chest until it felt like he would explode. He sobbed and shook as the hand around his neck held him in place.

His place- where he belonged.

On his knees, at her feet.

There was no place he'd rather be.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes (cuz I always forget to):  
> "Ai shiteru yo, Angela-chan" = I love you, Angela  
> (Pls note that I don't know Japanese, just searched this stuff up and translated the rest so… if anyone wants to correct me, please do that. Thanks.)  
> (And yes, I say 'gray' not 'grey' cuz I ain't American or funny.)
> 
> Okay, with the inclusion of this chapter, it feels like the right time to mention some things. (Spoilers??? Also it's pretty long and not needed to be read)
> 
> -this story is not 100% in line with the actual timeline. Everything happens earlier but the fall of Overwatch, which happens a lot later, a few months after Morrison and Reyes are presumed dead.  
> -The reveal of Blackwatch occurs pretty early after Reyes is appointed the head, but since it was so early, they haven't really done anything yet, therefore not finding any 'wrongdoings' and needing to shut down yet. People later relook into the black ops division after 20~ years and sees the things that done THEN tries to shut it down.  
> -This will not have a happy ending.  
> -In most of the flashbacks, Mercy still refers to Genji as 'the cyborg', not 'her cyborg' cuz she's still sane.  
> -Mercy was not in the cybernetists team that turned Genji into what he was in Overwatch, but changed him completely later in the story.  
> -Reaper/Genji will not be in this story, it will just be like a weird stalker, friends-with-benefits-but-not-really-friends relationship.  
> -Hanzo will be in this story (prepare fore some Shimada showdown (well not really) (maybe with side mchanzo? who knows?)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr.](https://rndomdragon.tumblr.com)


End file.
